This is the ninth of a series of reflections of gratitude on 20 years of ministry at GBC.
Twenty years ago, I did not have this category for gratitude in my life. I couldn’t conceive it. I hadn’t lived life long enough to experience any significant pain and sorrow. Nor had I been exposed to much pain in the lives of others. Twenty years later, that has changed.
In the first couple of months here I did my first funeral, we had a pregnant teen in the church, a woman tempted by suicide (she didn’t follow through), babies born (good news!), a broken marriage. Since then, I’ve been with families when loved ones have died, visited many hospital rooms after illness or accidents, endured Y2K, lingering illnesses, broken homes, and strained relationships.
Personally, Raye Jeanne and I have buried three of our four parents, struggled with ministry to Emily in her hearing loss, endured many water trials at home, grieved over broken relationships, endured a variety of disappointments common to life, and wrestled through all the regular burdens and questions related to raising children to walk after God.
And through it all, together we’ve learned to give thanks to God who is better than it all.
I don’t remember the exact quote, but Jeremiah Burroughs says that we are not content and thankful until we have learned to sanctify God (call Him holy) in the midst of our affliction. It is so easy to think about the difficulty of our days and to forget the purposes of God. It is a fundamental temptation to become angry (we might call it “frustration” or “sadness”) and to forget God Himself and His goodness in our trials.
Which is why Paul reminds us of the reality of suffering and God’s purposes in that suffering:
Suffer hardship with me, as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. (2 Tim. 2:3)
…for which I suffer hardship even to imprisonment as a criminal; but the word of God is not imprisoned. (2 Tim. 2:9)
Now you followed my teaching, conduct, purpose, faith, patience, love, perseverance, persecutions, and sufferings, such as happened to me at Antioch, at Iconium and at Lystra; what persecutions I endured, and out of them all the Lord rescued me! Indeed, all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will be persecuted. (2 Tim. 3:10-12)
Alexander the coppersmith did me much harm; the Lord will repay him according to his deeds. Be on guard against him yourself, for he vigorously opposed our teaching. At my first defense no one supported me, but all deserted me; may it not be counted against them. But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me, so that through me the proclamation might be fully accomplished, and that all the Gentiles might hear; and I was rescued out of the lion’s mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed, and will bring me safely to His heavenly kingdom; to Him be the glory forever and ever. Amen. (2 Tim. 4:14-18)
There will be suffering because of the gospel. There will be suffering because of persecution. There will be suffering because of the realities of living in a fallen world. And there will be suffering because of betrayal.
Yet we must remember that He will bring us, as He did Paul, to His eternal kingdom. And He will sanctify us in the process.
I’ve watch others in our church body suffer through illness, death, “disaster,” and they have evidenced Christ’s sanctification. I’ve seen my own struggles and seen God weaving together my need for sanctification and for Him.
Here is a bedrock truth: you and I don’t need our troubles removed; we need Him. And making that truth central in our lives is His purpose for our troubles. Do we want the removal of our pain or do we want Him?
Every trial of life is an opportunity for gratitude because we will never see God’s sustaining grace without it. How will you ever know what Christ can do until you suffer? The pain is a gift that anticipates sufficient grace. Pain is a means of demonstrating real gratitude for God and trust.
He is always good — even in (especially in) our hardship.
And the suffering is a means of demonstrating to others the joy of life with Christ that He is better than it all. I’ve said for years that our pain is more than just for us — your pain is for me and mine is for you as together we watch Christ work in us.
I’m thankful for suffering.
Words of Grace 